#so many things to mull about

[trashlie]

ILY FP 209

vHowdy ho guys! Yet another post where I’ve basically taken my initial write up on reddit and edited it for additional thoughts/insight/changes in my thinking! Sorry to keep doing this but I feel like it’s the easiest way to do this, rather than just trying to write something new using all the points I’ve made before lol. That said, I still want to write up a post about how I’m viewing Alyssa and her sexuality (and how it relates to her need to fit in!) but I’m still struggling to figure out how to manage my time properly lately. ;A; 

Anyway, this was SUCH an episode! Like, literally gave it 5 stars for everything that it contains, and if you guys have read my ILY Brainrot long enough, you know this was total catnip for me. Nol airing grievances, Kousuke’s insecurities being addressed, some interesting callbacks/parallels to an earlier scene that has constantly vexed me, and a whole lot of drama. This episode was worthy of a bag of popcorn, frankly! Let’s dive in!

Kousuke actually saying, out loud, that Nol would be doing everyone a favor if he was gone is SO cold. Not that he's ever really kept it a secret, but I don't think Kousuke has intentionally said that out loud in front of Nol (at least, not knowingly, unlike that time Nol called him). I had said that I had a feeling Nol would be able to muster up the ability to say nice things about Kousuke in a genuine way, but actually seeing how many things he could say he admires about him, while Kousuke couldn't even pull up one, only a condescending backwards compliment... I feel like these last two episodes really epitomize their relationships and who THEY are. Kousuke has always been driven by his growing paranoia AND his fear of disappointing Rand, and they're both full on display. The way he loathes Nol is completely different from the way Nol dislikes (or hates?) Kousuke.

For Nol, it’s a matter of how Kousuke has reduced him to nothing over the years, how he pointedly denied Nol any right to happiness (and this is something I’d like to go a little deeper into, if possible, sometime!), how he belittled him for so many years. Nol’s dislike/hatred stems from years of being attacked. But Kousuke hates Nol just for existing. Nothing Nol could do or not do would ever change Kousuke’s mind. It’s so raw and vitriolic. 

There's so much honesty coming out in this episode and I don't know how to describe how it makes me feel - sad feels like such a paltry understatement? It really re-centers what we knew from those little snippets of their pasts: once upon a time Nol tried SO HARD to be a brother to Kousuke, to curry his favor, until one day he realized it was an impossible task. Once he was made to feel like nothing he tried to BECOME nothing, and even that was still too much for Kousuke. He tried to do what Kousuke wanted but his chance to disappear was taken away by him, too, in a fit of paranoia. Nol spoke nothing but the truth and Kousuke continues to warp and distort reality EVEN AS IT PLAYS OUT. The insistence that he'll be in trouble despite the conversation with Rand, because Kousuke is incapable of believing that. But what Nol said is probably true - Kousuke likely has never truly been in trouble, but to Kousuke, disappointing Rand is the same thing (and I imagine Yui is not without some kind of manipulative quip that makes Kousuke feel like he did not exceed expectations). And all this time, Rand has been ENCOURAGING Kousuke to do exactly what Nol's telling him. Perhaps he wouldn't describe it in the same words, but Rand knows that Kousuke has been at his beck and call his entire life and he doesn't want that for him.

It's funny that Kousuke is always calling Nol selfish. As readers we know that Nol puts nearly everyone ahead of him. In order to be selfish, you have to care enough to put yourself ahead of others, to take things for yourself without consideration of others. But Nol has spent his whole life considerate of Kousuke. On the other hand, Kousuke has spent his entire life trying to impress or please his father, without once following his own whims. To him, Nol looks selfish because Kousuke truly believes his life to be indolent, because he doesn't operate in an effort to please Rand. Kousuke feels the weight of a burden that Nol doesn't share - except the only person shackling him with that burden is himself (and arguably Yui, but that's a whole other thing). We haven't ever seen Kousuke chase after something HE truly wants - something out of pleasure or joy. I assume university was the last time he ever did anything truly for himself, and we saw that he was called home and left it all behind to come to this life and never looked back. What Nol said about playing the piano - when did Kousuke stop? Has he ever played it recently? Is it something that he told himself was a childish hobby and now, as a grown man, he mustn't entertain these childish whims anymore or something?

Idk how to word it well but this chapter just feels SO raw. Nol put SO MUCH of himself out there. They're an interesting opposite of each other in this way - though Nol has kept everything to himself and swallowed everything down whole, he's the one more willing to air his grievances with Kousuke and be honest but Kousuke can't even be honest to himself. Every day he is lying to himself. Think about how he had to talk to himself about the CFO position, reminding himself he wants this, he wants that life, even if he has to uproot himself and go to Tokyo. At the end of the day, Kousuke goes through the motions. Does he enjoy his job or is it all just the pursuit of someone else's approval? No wonder he thinks Nol is childish and lazy - Kousuke was made to believe that as adults, we must sacrifice things and that there is no room in an adult life for whimsy or pointless enjoyment. In episode 27 when Nol says he’ll be cold with Shinae, Kousuke closes his eyes and says they’re ridiculous and tells them to stop acting like children. Why are his eyes closed? He’s been conditioned to think that everyone must act a certain way - that he has an image to keep and he doesn’t have the “liberty” to live freely as he thinks Nol does. To him, Nol is the selfish one for living for himself when he’s supposed to be adhering to a particular image, because isn’t that what it means to be mature, to be an adult, to impress others? 

This is also the second time someone has predicted Kousuke won't be good at his job. Yujing has noted that she thinks he's not ready, he's moving too fast. Nol isn't wrong that someone without his own convictions won't be fit to run a company. I don't doubt that Kousuke has and will continue to develop other necessary skills, but convictions are important. A CEO can't fold to everyone else's whims, and that's where Kousuke lacks the most. How do you push back against the people you are trying to maintain good relations with? 

In the same way that Nol has spent so many years now living as Yeonggi in a prison of his own making, Kousuke has been living like a dog chained up - except the chain is of his own making. Like Nol says - there's a difference between respect and blind obedience. Kousuke is in his mid 20s and he still lives like he's a 14 year old afraid to be grounded. That fear of disappointment is SO. DEEPLY. ROOTED. And I know that's a hard thing to let go of. As a 30-year-old I still avoid certain confrontation with my parents for fear of having to deal with that fall out. But what Kousuke is dealing with is something so much bigger than that. He DOES need help. He needs someone to help him unlearn and let go of those fears. His entire identity is comprised of this, and it’s why he unraveled like that when he found out Rand had heard everything he said. Without these aspects of his identity, who is Kousuke? 

But it's also so sad to see Nol lay out his feelings like that, and how Kousuke meets them so coldly. Nol was a threat from the very beginning. He was never given a chance. Even as Nol stood in front of him and sincerely complimented him, talked about things he admires even if he hates that, Kousuke still heard it as condescending, as attacks. That paranoia is beyond unhealthy. Nol's interview with Oxford University? Obviously all about Kousuke, because why else would Nol do anything if not to undermime him, right? And isn’t that interesting, that Nol had the opportunity to get away, that he could have gone far away from this family and been out of Kousuke’s hair, but he didn’t let him. What is it Kousuke wants? To get rid of Nol or not? Is it just that he believes everything Nol does is a slight against him, an attempt to make him look inferior? Or is it more subconscious - that so much of who Kousuke is was a result of ensuring that he always remained three steps ahead of Nol. Kousuke compares himself to Nol more than he’ll ever care to admit, and has used Nol as a benchmark measure for how he’s supposed to act and whether or not he’s the successful golden son. As long as Nol isn’t succeeding at anything, Kousuke remains on the throne. And how can he know how he compares to Nol if Nol isn’t here? If he goes to another country? And not only that, but it was Oxford. Their father’s alma matter. A school Kousuke didn’t think possible for Nol to get into. But JUUUUST in case he could, thanks to his connection to Rand, Kousuke saw to it that he never even had the chance, didn’t get to prove if he was the worthy adversary Kousuke worries he is. If he doesn’t know, then it can’t be true, right? 

Like Nol tells him, without his name, without Rand’s validation, without his family, Kousuke is nothing. Strip all of that away and what’s he left with? Who is he under the family name, who is he without Rand’s validation, who is he without his name? Would he amount to the same without it? I think there’s some extra nuance here that can be gleaned through earlier episodes - like Kousuke’s paranoid drunken break down, thinking everyone is calling him out on his flaws and predicting his downfall, because deep down, subconsciously, Kousuke knows what he is (or rather, isn’t) and that without any of that he is nothing. So he strips Nol of anything that can bring him warmth, of anything that can make him happy, of any opportunity to amount to anything, to ensure that at least if Kousuke is nothing, then Nol is negative. To ensure that Nol can’t benefit from the very things Kousuke has. He could have allowed himself a personality, hobbies, an identity, but instead he just decided to tear down someone else in effort to life up himself. 

But something that’s interesting about Kousuke comparing himself to Nol is: this isn’t the first time Nol has managed to goad Kousuke into doing something just to prove himself. When Nol turns to leave, after Kousuke drops to his knees in front of him, he goads Kousuke a little more and Kousuke finally takes the bait. Though far more dramatic, this is much like an earlier scene back in episode 27. Kousuke makes a fuss about having to eat a hamburger with his hands and Nol makes a comment to just leave Kousuke be and let him eat it the way he wants. “He’s always been prim and proper, he won’t do it.” And then Kousuke does it. He cannot stand to let Nol have any upperhand. If Nol says he can’t do it, then Kousuke will prove him wrong. Afterwards, Nol smiles and I used to think (or hope?) it meant that Nol thought he was getting through to Kousuke, that maybe with enough prodding he could be a tolerable person, but now I think it was more that Nol just realized what kind of advantage he possessed, and how he could use that against Kousuke. I don’t think it was ever about any warmth towards Kousuke as much as a realization that there were some ways Nol had an upperhand when it came to Kousuke. 

And here he uses that advantage, goads Kousuke in to proving him wrong. It’s funny, because Kousuke has lately been talking about Nol like he’s a vicious animal, like he’s someone violent and unstable and ready to attack at any moment. But in the end, Kousuke succumbs to that violence. In the end, he can’t resist his own sucker punch (waiting for Nol to turn his back). He was unable to let Nol leave that room with the satisfaction that he was right. Kousuke ends up doing something he condemns in order to prove Nol wrong, because it turns out that proving him wrong is more important than upholding his image. 

“I would never stoop to your level” Kousuke says, before he does exactly that. Allows himself to feel something, to relish in his vitriolic hate, and embraces that moment of violence. 

I’ve said it before that in the same way Yeonggi was a mask, Kousuke also wears a mask, except his has become so interwoven, he doesn’t know where his mask ends and he begins. He puts on his little show, acts the way he’s supposed to, maintains the intellectual and mature hobbies he’s supposed to, puts on airs, makes himself look impressive. All these things that are just a superficial face. Nol said that Kousuke’s home is pristine, everything is minimalist, no clutter, designed with purpose. Who is Kousuke? WHAT is he? He finally succumbs to his baser instinct out of bitterness and loathing, intent on yet again proving Nol wrong, and all that hatred and loathing comes out through his fist. For a moment, Kousuke lets the mask slip and lets his real self come out and do what he’s probably always wanted to do.

Actually, on this tangent, there’s a lot of power dynamics at play here. Kousuke is the eldest and the heir, sufficiently the one who holds most power. Throughout their lives, he’s exerted his power on making Nol feel small, like nothing, ensuring that he stands on his chest and keeps him down. But isn’t it funny, how Nol ends up the taller one, the one who looks most like Rand and possesses some of his expressions and mannerisms? Kousuke has spent his entire life striving to become Rand and here Nol, a nobody, a nothing, an insignificant bastard is the spitting image of him but for his hair. And though Kousuke has made Nol feel like nothing, made him feel so small, now Nol looks down upon him in disdain. He’s no longer making himself smaller for Kousuke’s convenience, no longer minimizing himself, and by letting himself take up that space, he looks down upon the man who looked down on him. The balance has shifted. Kousuke’s upperhand no longer exists. He was keeping Yeonggi in place, he was keeping that kid in place - but Nol isn’t that kid anymore. There’s so many panels that emphasize the way Nol is looking down on Kousuke - both physically and metaphorically as he calls out Kousuke on his fears, as he turns the zero around on Kousuke. 

The way Kousuke wars with what he wants is interesting. There’s that moment where he slips, where he flies over to Nol and grabs him by the collar, but as Nol jeers down at him, Kousuke can’t do it and he slumps to the ground. He literally kneels on the floor beneath Nol, as Nol looks down upon him. All these years Nol has been the pest, the cockroach that won’t leave, a crumbling mess under Kousuke’s shoe - and here the roles have reversed. Nol looks down at Kousuke. 

Idk it’s just such a fascinating, interesting episode to me, and it really reinforces the identities of Nol and Kousuke - who and what they are. Though he’s hidden so much, Nol has still lived more honestly than Kousuke, and Kousuke has kept himself chained up, unable to live that way, and his envy towards Nol’s seemingly indolent life turns into hate. He feels so threatened by Nol’s existence that he’s believed everything Nol ever did was about him. I’m willing to bet he even thought Nol was hanging out with Shine as a dig against him. And here, again, I’d love to revisit the ways that Kousuke has pointedly denied Nol any kind of happiness (such as the way he demanded that Nol cease his friendship with Shinae). Everything Nol has ever done, Kousuke has twisted to make about him, because his life is so wrapped up in  Nol, in his comparison to him, in his effort to always best him a nd beat him into the ground that he believes Nol’s life must be so about him. It’s impossible that Nol could ever want to do anything for himself or for others, could have any other personality that wasn’t about cutting him down if Kousuke can’t, right? Isn’t that wild, isn’t that sad? Kousuke’s whole life is made up of other people. His personality is fragments of others’ desires pieced together. He can’t fathom that Nol does things of his own volition because Kousuke himself does nothing of his own volition. 

I feel like there's nothing else I can say without repeating myself. It's just. It's all sad. Nol never stood a chance. Whether or not he tried, whether or not he made himself scarce, none of it matters because Kousuke will always find a way to make it about himself. No wonder Nol feels like nothing, why he feels like he's always being punished. No amount of effort could ever make his family love him* so what was the point of anything?

(* I can tell Rand loves him but he has never really shown it so I'm not going to pretend that Nol knows he does. As far as Nol knows, he's a mistake that shouldn't have happened and he's made life worse.)

I've talked a lot about my feelings that the big time jump will see the main characters going their separate was and coming back into each others' lives as adults, and I wonder if this would lead to that or not. Nol gave him his word and Kousuke gave him the reaction he was trying so hard to get. So will he go ahead and disappear like he said? I hope not, but also, can you blame him for wanting so badly to just get away from it all? God it all just makes me feel so SAD.

EDIT: follow up because everyone has pointed out the railing breaking and !!!!! aaaaaaahhhh!!!!! There's so many falls, Nol has had so many falls, and one CAUSED by Kousuke is big! Who was it who has the theory that the altercation between Nol and Kousuke involved some kind of fall for Kousuke? And now this time, it's Kousuke the one to cause something? My how the turntables! But also.... if you get injured prior to getting locked away, what do they do with you?! We don't need any more head injuries.... (I’ve been informed he would go to a hospital and then just be transported to prison once he’s released).

And it always brings up: how is Kousuke going to feel? Vindicated? Horrified? Will he just wheel it back and blame Nol because "you pushed me you made me do it"? Will he actually show some sense of care and worry that ISN'T rooted in what father will think or do? Does he care at all about Nol or is it all just pure resentment anymore? It’s true, Nol did goad Kousuke into doing it, but Kousuke succumbing to violence was still his own choice. The only thing that made him do it was his need to prove Nol wrong, to try to maintain his upperhand. With so much vitriol in his heart, would Kousuke even care that he caused harm or just be horrified that he did, horrified of what other people will think? Much to think about! 

#I Love Yoo #ILY Spoilers #ILY FP #ILY Brainrot #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Nol #Kousuke Hirahara #i mean this is largely about them let's admit it lol #I don't think it's worth tagging anyone else because this all about the Kousuke Nol dynamics slash power play #actually all that said i do wonder how this episode will affect the way Shinae views the brothers and how her relationship with them is #she tried so hard to keep them from going at each other but forces of nature cannot be tamed #will she be horrified by both of them? will she feel nol's pain? will she condemn his methods? #will she rethink if Nol (who is not Yeonggi) is a person she wants to stay by #will she see the face value of nol and kousuke's relationship and understand? #it's such a complex situation tbh and i can't blame her if this makes her take a step back but aaahhhhhhhh #so many things to mull about #ILY Commentary

[fall-and-shadows]

I haven't seen the discourse or whatever we call it now, but all the separate reaction posts are always my favorite. Reading other women's thoughts and perspectives is invaluable. Truly, the one thing tumblr excels at imo

#you can really mull things over and come to what you believe #wish there was more of it in person #its the spinning and weaving our foremothers talked about #in real time worldwide #now thats something special #so many smart women on here

[mymarifae]

did anyone even fucking care about the implications here. wasn't anyone else moved by this twist (THAT HAD BEEN BUILT UP TO ALL ALONG...........)

#boothill is less than a speck of dirt to me rn i literally have so many other things to think about and mull over #hsr spoilers

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I have to say, I DO admire Kozma's attitude in some ways bc I do wish I was that assertive and certain and a fucking bitch so that people don't fuck with me, but also every time I see someone talk TOO highly of her in my notes or in the wild or like someone hypes up a little too much about how badass is she or whatever, I DO react like 😬😬😬😬

#I've been mulling over writing for like WEEKS that like I love her but also she is SO FUCKING AWFUL and I am hesitant to girlboss her #because she's AWFUL. She is HORRIFIC. She is EXACTLY like the Trust in many many many terrible ways. #I haven't posted it bc I've been debating whether I really wanted to get into it bc people struggle with WEEPE so like #but anyway maybe I should be I've also been thinking about how wild it is people seem to struggle with accepting Weepe is self-interested #YES i am aware I am a bit of a hypocrite bc the post BEFORE this is a joke about marrying Imogen. Tho Imogen is less regularly girlbossed. #Midst things #Midst spoilers

[thatsparrow]

sometimes you’ve just gotta reread a beloved childhood fav, tearing through it at a speed that would make your 10/11yo self proud

#this is about lots of books but right now it’s about the fablehaven series by brandon mull #though I guess I was just 11 when the first one came out #it is still so fun!! it does so many things very well!

[alun-ura]

Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do? and What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it? (Alun)

Big Ol’ Honkin’ OC Question List

Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

I wouldn't say Alun gets jealous per se, instead what she feels is something more akin to protectiveness and spite to some extent - the way and the intensity of it varying of course depending on the person. In that regard Alun is usually very calm, she doesn't carry a sense of possessiveness over people for multiple reasons; one being that I hardly imagine Alun being a monogamous person, but going deeper into it would be that because of her lifestyle and past experiences, she wouldn't want to be heavily romantically invested to someone so she nips it at the bud before it can even get to the point of bubbling such a feeling.

Specifying a bit HOW she feels, when it comes to being protective of someone she does care about - Alun isn't exactly bothered about them being with someone else. Still, it is a lingering feeling of 'Is this person good enough for you?, Are they able to keep you safe? Will they hurt you?' that can make her somewhat hostile to this other party, or even seem jealous. When it comes to spite, it is usually aimed at partners she doesn't care as much about - people that tend to be more physical with her and, ironically enough, people that try to make her jealous. Most times, people with this kind of dynamic already have a nasty attitude coming from Alun, of overall being a prick and not pleasant - she'd often describe such people as her leftovers, if the other party wants that then she is more than fine with it. It's usually in a degrading way to both people, which can also seem like spiteful jealousy.

Alun neither feels bad nor regrets either situation, she feels entitled to both feelings in the way that A) She is seeking the best for that person when being protective to the point of being horrible to them, and B) She was never in an emotional tie to care about being spiteful to someone, often lacing it with the fact that she would have most likely warned them that things would be like that. Both are not exactly good, both her behaviors and her reasoning for them are rooted in deeper issues within herself that just flower up in such a way.

What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

I think the main thing that comes to mind is her inability to emotionally connect or rely on people, though I realize Alun has many varying obstacles in all categories (go girl!) so for this I'd just go down the list.

Emotional; to explain this better I'll dip toes a bit into some past stuff as Alun has been on an emotional rollercoaster since she left the Steppes - which was the exact opposite of what she used to be like, in quite the opposite, she had experienced little and none during her time living there, to the point of getting into a 'stunted' personality and emotional. There was far too much to address and to live once she left, and hardly any care for it at the time as if one decided to eat a huge hearty meal after being starved for weeks. As expected, it didn't go too well which leaves the current times not too different from what she used to be - there was a myriad of situations and feelings she had never properly experienced truly, and the main and lingering one at the current times is love and grief. What slingshot Alun into the current person she is, how she behaves, and how she emotionally responds to things and people is the loss of a loved one caused by herself, perhaps the only one she deemed true in her life despite never truly allowing room for another after that accident happened. 

It is one of the biggest themes when it comes to Alun as a person in a deeper sense of her character (and something plastered all over her aesthetic tag) but particularly this encompasses the feeling well.

"my death will forever cling to you, leaving behind a slimy trail and a metallic taste in your mouth. my soul will forever drag you down like the heavy corpse of a long-dead god, who somehow still grants wishes. you can't tell which one of us is the one not letting go. you know not even your own death will end this." 

This branches out in other aspects of her obstacles per se but I believe it to be the biggest of them, realistically she should get over it - but the damage made by her and to her due to such feeling is the one thing that I find it incredibly hard to see Alun surpass as it grew into an enormous knot between emotion, physical and social all. She is constantly haunted by it, in her dreams and losing sleep over it, it follows her in a personality adopted by herself and traits that did not belong to her, she sees them in shadows and the corners of her eyes during medication, the crystal necklace being the only thing she has from them - that sometimes seems to talk to her with that same voice. And she has questioned her sanity before due to it all, even when she is doing good or when she is completely awake it is there as a constant ringing of what happened will be shackled to her. So it ends up reflecting an unfulfilled bond, in guilt and fear that she has to surpass to truly, emotionally connect with someone. I don't think she needs to get over ALL of these to make it happen personally, but because of the type of person she is, it is very easy for the other side to fuck up in the way and have Alun retract from any progress made.

Alun is bitterly aware of it, it has come into the topic before and she recognizes it as the issue it is when she began questioning her own sanity due to it, but she isn't trying to overcome it in any way. She has, as a character, gone full circle where she hated the lack of motion her life had brought her, only to willingly walk back into it herself - Alun is 'comfortable' in the stillness of carrying her life as it is until she dies and hopefully can meet them again. 

Physical; I think this can be addressed both in a bodily manner and a physical interaction way so I'll ramble about both. Going deeper into that, due to the scarring that such a loss left on her, the regards for her wellbeing were knocked away as well and this turned into a couple issues with her current days. She has sustained a couple injuries over the years, the worst being over her ribcage as I mentioned somewhere here before - the wound clearly affects her breathing if one has a keen eye for it. She also puts too much attention into defending that side, enough to leave room for other crucial parts of her body open as a target. Because of her behavior regarding her own body, she doesn't go through too much trouble in defending it, though of course she won't take blows if she can avoid it - but the scarrings over her are clear enough. To this point, she doesn't exactly have too many issues besides that which brings the actual bodily obstacle; her dependency on medication. Her body is usually aching, due to exertion, injuries, and the chemical response to the constant cocktail that goes inside her - usually all deafened by it. It has got to the point where she doesn't heal properly due to it, her response to a magickal approach isn't good too in both the body and mind, and on top of it, it has been affecting her inhibition and cognition to some extent. Her necklace takes part in how her body takes all of this in, but her addiction is by far her worst physical obstacle - and yet again, she is aware of it but she doesn't see it as a problem that has any other solution to it because she doesn't see the dependency as the problem, but how her body & health currently are now. 

The other facet of a physical obstacle is how she physically connects to people since the emotional option is usually out of the picture. This is the way that Alun will gladly invest herself into, though yet again it is in a destructive way as I mentioned above regarding her wellbeing. It is the easiest way to connect to her, and also the easiest way to completely shatter any opportunity to get anywhere 'closer' to her - and also what she WILL offer in most scenarios if the chance is given. This doesn't have to be romantically or sexually exclusive, and goes as far as offering herself physically to a foe [ in a fight right? :) ], ultimately, she gets the same satisfaction of being beside someone either as a partner or as an enemy. And this can go in any way, be together in combat or opposing, sharing a respite together, or in bed. With this, she is steadily building wall after wall that, as closely as it gets with the other person, she is putting her actual self further and further away while getting that high of a company she desperately wants, not that person's company but just A company. In a physically social way, I think this is the biggest obstacle and something Alun is actually not aware of - she is lonely and starved for different aspects of comfort, and she seeks all of these with the company of strangers regardless of if they are hostile or not.

Social; I think all of the above builds into her social issues and the knot I mentioned within all of these, that builds into her biggest social struggle that's her fear of getting close, her emotional distance while being physically close, how her medication aids in hindering her personality to an extent - all of these builds into Alun being a tricky individual to get close to because she is constantly shifting from cold and hot. It flickers back and forth, from friendly teasing to cruel remarks, of interest to silence, toothy grins that follow that perpetual monotone voice. Though the reason for it is an amalgam of all of the above, she has adopted many traits of the people that she knew, people that she lost, and built who she currently is as a walking monument for those. In a way, it is one of the reasons why she won't take the approach of just choosing to die - I know I posted this quote of hers here before but this is the best take I have of the creature herself about it. 

 “All that I am now, every memory, everything that I know, every thing that I did, every single fucking step of the way– I would give it all back t'him if it meant getting him back.” 

All that she currently is is pieces put together of those that she affected somehow, that Alun blames herself for - and this shows in her very personality, in an adopted form of speech, or her preference for certain drinks, down to the very fidgeting habits she has. She does this in a conscious way while seeing that both as the person she is and someone she also won't always be - which can make it difficult if someone is after knowing Alun in a deep sense, of who she is, or keeping up with her behavior.

#asks #thank you for the ask! #this got #so incredibly long oh my god #I'm sorry NFJKDNJG AAAAAA #I was even like #hm hm I'm going to try and keep this short and not ramble too much #wHICH I DID I SWEAR #I think my favorite parts or themes about alun is #literally all of these aspects #she has so many social issues #and huge emotional issues #and physical ones too #go GIRL #and it is genuinely hard to implement all of these when writing her without being just Too Much #moreso because when writing her in a scene with someone these things won't be in their face to read like in an ask right #it will be small details that are JUST THERE #Alun poking at the crack of her horn or grinning and laughing are all signs of these things #even her speech #so I like to mull about these things a lot in my mind because they are core pillars to the character she is now even if it reflects in #too subtle ways #OK I'M SHUTTING UP NOW

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Let’s play a game of “How many sensory items can I accumulate before people suspect there’s something odd going on with my brain”

#like ok I can buy a lot of stuff; but they are never on impulse #I typically wait three days before buying something small and inexpensive after seeing it for the first time #that number increases with the amount of money I have to spend #because I MUST determine if I will like and use it before I even think about buying it #to the point where I was actually mulling over which cheap bamboo flute to get at a garage sale one time (there were two; I couldn’t choose) #and my dad was like ‘just get both; they’re only 25 cents a piece’ and I went ‘Oh? I’m allowed to do that… I forgot’ #same with snacks and sweets #I cannot eat a large cookie twice in a day unless the second large cookie is a different flavor than the first #But I can eat as many small cookies as I want in a day; so long as they are in multiples of three #I can only eat one of each thing a day because it’s weird to eat the same ingredient for two meals in a day; unless it’s cooked differently #like scrambled eggs vs egg drop soup; but if I ate pancakes in the morning I won’t eat pancakes for dinner #unless they are leftovers from eating out #I can only comment once per meeting; otherwise it feels ick #anyway I bought a lot of sensory stuff in the past year lol #and I thought about each one before I bought it #I waited four whole months to buy chewelry when I knew I wanted some #but somehow that fail safe gets overridden if it’s a small business and they have something I’ve been looking for #because why wouldn’t I buy from a small business? we love our artisans in this household #especially if the business is owned by a minority group or nonprofit for a good cause

[dragqueenpentheus]

not to be like. A Freak in the tags but

#sometimes things cross over from like. passion i love and NEED to create about #to like. SO COMPLEX AND BEAUTIFUL WITH SO MANY LAYERS THAT IT BECOMES HOLY AND I JUST. CANT MAKE ABOUT IT ANYMORE. #and that happened w ruehob WEEKS ago but god tonight hit it home SOOOO HARD #like. i'll need to marinate with this ship. consume the entire canon. dissect it later by layer. #and then maybe be able to make things #other ships that fall into this category are and have been. valvert. fitzier. jupeter. #like we are talking heavy hitters that i've tried to name myself after levels here #obiwan and anakin too....... #i wanna make but it's SOOOOOO #THEY ARE SOOOOOOOO #like. rue doesn't care and doesn't THINK about the consiquences of their actions. meanwhile hob is so completely fixated on his consequences #that he doesn't let himself be a PERSON #like. he needs orders so the consiquences are other peoples and the pain and horror he sees himself enacting has that degree of separation #and then RUE OUT HERE LIKE. HM. MY PRIORITY IS LOVE. BECAUSE I NEVER TASTED IT. BUT I KNOW ITS REAL. ILL DO MY VERY BEST TO MAKE LOVE HAPPEN #AT ALL TIMES #AND I WILL NOT AT ALL CONSIDER THE IMPLICATIONS OF MY ACTIONS THANK YOU 💖 #like god rue is sO. i think they are the one i really have to sit with and mull and consider like. there is so MUCH in that lil freak. #like. ough baby rue is so complicated and brash and impulsive and hob sees that so completely as brave and i'm SOOO #i love them both so much i can't even say like #rue has so much shit goin on in that brain i need to piece it together. lads we have a GRAY CHARACTER and i'm thriving #the LYING baby the LYINGGGGG #i had a fic i was pretty deep in on that i abandoned after the hedge maze/tailor shop episodes bc i was like #mmmm nope these lads have too much percolating in em i don't have this umami right yet #and i was correct. the layers on them. #ANYWAY MONOLOUGE ASIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!! #these kids are stickin around even post series this is one of the long term ones i can tell

[eevachu]

Life just kinda sucks lately, but at least my antidepressants seem to be working because I haven’t been… bad about it like I would’ve been in the past. I never know where to talk about this stuff because I’m still working on getting a therapist; tumblr just feels like the right place. Like sitting under an old tree in a quiet graveyard.

#my grandma who helped raise me died and i caught covid so i couldn't go see her #and i'm sad about it but i'm not catatonic and guilt-ridden about it which is weird #every emotion for my whole life felt so BIG; both bad AND good #now they're still there just smaller #i've got a follow up with my psychiatrist tomorrow and i'm mulling it all over but not stressing #anxiety ruined my life so many times and i'm glad i'm on the road to stopping it from ever doing that again #i'm living and that's what matters even if i'm desperately sad while i do so i'm still living #my sleep is FUCKED tho omg #and i'm still fucked up from covid lbr #chu rambles in the tags #sad girl bummer summer #just chu things #might delete in the morning #idk just needed to pace back and forth on the sidewalk of the internet muttering to myself for a bit

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

you know. there are few things that make me sit and think carefully about my instinct to say something would be a Good Fictional Metaphor for a real-world issue like the time i saw the take with my own two eyes that piranesi is a powerful, insightful, accurate metaphor for both colonialism in general and slavery in the US

#piranesi tag #antiblack racism cw #anti-indigenous racism cw #colonialism cw #like i really /hope/ that was just a bad take and not the author's intent because hoooooooly shit that would be. Bad #starting with the fact that piranesi is fucking british. and also his parents migrated from non-US countries of their own will lmao #that does not even begin to scratch the surface of what a balls-out racist trainwreck that would be but like. Uh #amazingly enough marginalized people are capable of experiencing ableism and individualized abuse #that does not reduce their experiences and their personhood down to a one-dimensional symbolic ambassador for the One Group #marginalized people and their stories are not in fact interchangeable with each other and it's dehumanizing to act like they are #wild i know but autistic black people who have been abused via isolation; trauma-bonding; ableism; and gaslighting #and loved their abusers; and had their trust; loyalty; and goodwill taken advantage of--in ways both utilizing and resisted by their autism #and needed outside help care outreach and perspective to solidify their inklings that what's happening to them is fucked and they need out #exist! and deserve representation just actually! #whereas that's uh Not How Fucking Slavery and Colonialism Have Gone Ever Jesus Christ Lmao #anyway. i could go on for a long time about this shit but tl;dr it is one of the most spectacularly awful takes i have ever seen #and this kind of thing is why i have so many posts sitting in my drafts to mull over re: political metaphors i'd approve of at first glance #because dear fucking lord lmao #the salt files

[scudslut]

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon drabbles #twd drabbles #fem!reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl smut #norman reedus smut #y/n grimes #daryl x grimes reader #twd smut #daryl twd #twd fanfiction

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

#yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere dc #yandere dc comics #yandere bruce wayne imagine #yandere batman imagine #yandere dc imagine #yandere imagine #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere writings #yandere imagines #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #yandere dc x reader #x reader

[loveinhawkins]

Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.

It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.

He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.

Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.

He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.

One step forward, then another, and another.

There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.

His palms brush against the bathroom door.

“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.

He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.

With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.

“Okay, okay…”

Pulls.

Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.

And…

The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.

Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.

“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.

He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.

“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”

Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.

As he works, Eddie hums nervously.

“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?

Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.

But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.

“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”

Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”

“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”

Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”

“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”

“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”

“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”

“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”

“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”

Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”

“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”

“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”

“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”

“Check? What?”

Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.

“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”

“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.

He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.

After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.

There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.

“Eddie. You can go.”

“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.

“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”

“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”

Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”

Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”

“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”

“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”

But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.

“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”

“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”

“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”

“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”

Steve hums.

“In bold. Underlined.”

“Whatever you say.”

Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”

Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.

Eddie takes it.

When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.

“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.

There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.

“You too,” he tells Eddie.

“Huh?”

Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.

“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”

He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.

For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.

“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”

Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.

You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.

Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.

“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.

He drinks.

Steve prays that it holds.

#reciprocal hurt/comfort & protectiveness because they notice each other and care so damn much. with a side of banter of course ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[astrophileous]

A little fluffy piece of reader who normally takes her coffee black vs Spencer having a ton of sugar in his? The two of them getting their drinks mixed up and almost spitting it out at the pure amount/lack of sugar? 🤭

OMG I was actually planning to include a similar scene in one of my upcoming oneshots, but you know whattt!!! I'll write them again here anyway bcs it's such a cute concept 🥰

Warning(s): gn!reader but reader wears lipgloss, profanities, fixation over lips, bashful spencer bcs he's my babygirl <3

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"What the fuck?"

Spencer strode over just in time to see you spitting something out into the kitchenette sink. There was no concealing the disgust on your face as you eyed the cup in your grasp suspiciously.

"Hey." Spencer's voice tore through the air in a shaky ball of nerves. It sounded meek amidst the buzzing busyness of the BAU bullpen, yet still, you snapped your head up as soon as the single syllable left his mouth.

Your eyes instantly melted when they flickered towards his face.

"I think our drinks got switched," Spencer added, a little louder this time.

Your gaze played a tennis match between the identical cups in both your hand and Spencer's. The grimace you rewarded him in the next second was possibly the cutest thing Spencer had seen in the past few months.

"This is yours? That explains so much. Ever heard of diabetes, Dr. Reid?" you joked as the two of you returned each cup to its rightful owner. "What the hell is in that, anyway?"

"Um, coffee?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "I may know practically nothing compared to you, Doctor, but I know for a fact that was not coffee. Tell me, how many sugar canes had to be chopped down to satisfy your abominable preference of sweetness?"

"It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Do you even know what real coffee tastes like?"

Before he could produce a reply, you suddenly thrust the cup of coffee in your hand right in front of Spencer's nose. The man staggered rearwards until his back met the wall with a thud.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it," you said sheepishly.

"What?"

"Try the goddamn coffee, Reid."

Spencer didn't actually need to try the goddamn coffee. After all, he knew your order like the back of his hand: iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, maybe one pump of syrup if you were feeling adventurous. He could already imagine how revolting the drink would taste.

But as you continued to peer at him behind your lashes, eyes twinkling with mischief and lips glossy from your favorite cherry lipgloss—the limited edition one that you had proudly boasted about in front of the entire team—Spencer could feel his IQ depleting in a rapid descension. He accepted the cup without a word and took a courageous sip.

"Well?" you questioned expectantly.

"Please don't force me to do anything like that, ever again."

Laughter exploded deep from within your chest when Spencer shoved the coffee back into your awaiting hand. He didn't have a lot of time to mull over the nauseating bitterness, however. Not when you proceeded to wrap your own lips around the lid—the same one he was just drinking from—and downed a generous sip.

Spencer averted his gaze away.

"Hey." JJ peeked into the pantry area, unaware of the rush of blood and inner turmoil that Spender was battling. The blonde waved the file in her hand before gesturing at the conference room. "We've got a case. Hotch wants everyone in five."

You skittered away after JJ's announcement, leaving Spencer dumbfounded and pathetically bothered by the image of your enticing lips. He followed after your footsteps, leading himself towards the conference room where the rest of his team was gathering. He drank a large sip from his own coffee to calm his racing heart, unaware of the reddish stain in the shape of your lips marking the area around the lid of his cup.

For the rest of that day, Spencer could taste traces of cherry on the tip of his tongue.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds x gn!reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds oneshot #zara's birthday bash and road to 1k

[teapartyprincess4two]

Full Set- M. Sturniolo

pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo

classification: mostly fluff

warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)

summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.

—

“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.

You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.

When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”

She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.

In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”

The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”

What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’

“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.

“Do you think we can add more glitter?”

—

After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.

As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.

Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.

For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.

You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:

@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!

Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!

@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!

He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.

—

The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.

When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.

Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.

You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.

“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.

“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.

“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.

“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.

“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”

Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.

“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.

Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.

Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.

“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she’s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.

“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.

“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.

“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.

“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.

“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.

As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.

While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”

You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.

—

The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.

“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.

“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’

You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.

To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.

You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.

The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.

Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”

“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.

“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.

“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.

Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”

—

When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.

When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.

It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.

Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:

@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!

‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:

@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)

What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.

@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!

The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.

Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.

“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.

“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”

You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.

“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.

“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.

—

The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.

While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.

When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?

“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.

Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.

He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.

Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.

Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.

—

For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.

Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.

When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.

He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.

“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.

“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.

—

When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.

You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.

“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.

Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.

Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”

His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.

Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.

“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.

“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.

“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.

There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.

“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.

“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.

You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt x reader #Matthew sturniolo x reader #Matthew sturniolo x y/n

[fairuzfan]

Hello. I just got in contact with a group in Seattle making "solidarity" art and I wanted to know what that means to you. Is acknowledging the horrors in Gaza the most effective way to make Palestinians feel seen? Or is there more value in incorporating symbols of resilience, like olive trees, watermelons, and spoons?

By acknowledging, I mean create something enraging, like depicting the drastically different living conditions on the Palestinian and Israeli sides of the border wall. Healthy people in open farmland on one side and a warzone on the other. Or is it better to include a little hope? One idea I've been mulling over is painting a Palestinian child and IDF solider in a way that suggests David and Goliath (I found out the most common charge against Palestinian youths is throwing rocks). Another is Gaza as a torn tapestry with Mother Palestine sewing over and repairing the rips with tatreez.

I guess the real question is: Do you think most Palestinians would appreciate an attempt at comfort, or is it better to simply grieve with them?

Thank you so much for sending this in. My personal take is the most inspiring imagery are symbols of resistance. For example, this poster is embedded in many Palestinians' minds (click) as a prime example of resistance. I love images of olives and flowers not because they're soft, but because they represent life to me. Something I also adore is Rafeef Ziadah's poem "We Teach Life, Sir" and Samah Fadil's "Then, A Palestinian was Born," as words that speak to me as core parts of Palestinian resistance.

I think you can definitely mix strength and grief, or comfort and grief together when talking about Palestine. Refaat said it best: "the most dangerous thing I have is an expo marker but if an Israeli soldier were to come to my house I would use that expo marker and throw it at them." To us, the idea that we have to resist is grief and the grief moves us to resist. I personally really love the david and golaith imagery because it reminds me of the poster below.

I guess this is all to say that you can mix them together, the grief of seeing people dying and the strength of resistance against the oppression. What's the most effective thing is portraying the truth: Israel kills and Palestine resists.

Here is the image. I highly encourage everyone to print out this poster and post it around town if you're able. Or even post it around social media if you can, and link back to palarchive so that people can see there's so much palestinian art and history that they can explore.

#palestine #gaza